home
by han'ei
Summary: FE13. Robin, in search for a place she can call home. Series of prompts.
1. choice

Robin, in search for a place she can call home. Series of prompts.

.

.

**home**

**#i. choice**

The ring is beautiful. He does not give her the one with the Ylisse royal family's crest—no, the one he offers is much simpler. A plain gold ring that she nevertheless finds beautiful.

"Marry me."

Hearing these words makes her nervous. He is her best friend, her most trust companion and he has just proposed to her. He is Chrom, he is the _Exalt_.

"I—"

Her throat feels dry and she shallows, unable to speak. She's not surprised by his proposal; in fact, she has expected this when he had asked her to come to Ylissetol and yet she cannot answer him. It's just too sudden; she has to think about it, about the consequences, for Ylisse's sake, for his sake and for her sake as well. She has to think about everything but _everything is just too much_.

Her heart is beating fast. His blue, expectant eyes are piercing her and she knows she has to give him an answer now. Patience has never been his forte, after all.

"Just follow your heart." Chrom said softly, stroking her hand—the one that used to have Grima's mark.

Though it should have felt sweet, gentle, his touch is burning her. It's not hurting her—war had hardened her body but still, it's not a pleasant feeling. And it makes her wonder what answer she'd have given him if he had asked her to marry him a few years ago. She supposes she'd have said yes, that she'd have accepted his ring and perhaps, _perhaps _his touch would have felt gentle.

But he had not proposed to her.

"Chrom…"

Seven years have passed since their first meeting, Emmeryn's death and Gangrel's fall, five years since Grima's fall and four years since Chrom has found her on the same fields she had been lying on the first time—the world is at peace, now.

They're not young anymore, either. No, they have grown up to become responsible people; Chrom is now the Exalt and he has so, so many duties and she… she's just Robin, a talented tactician who used to be Grima's vessel and is now travelling all around the world.

Differences between him and her are great. It had been before and it still is. She knows that Chrom does not give a damn about their differences and so does she. The issue, however, is what he truly feels. Because _she knows_.

She likes Chrom, truly. She knows he also likes her—they share a bond that can never be severed.

She takes a deep breath, feeling her heartbeat going slower. Chrom tightens the hold he has on her hand, he knows he'll hear her answer.

"No."

It feels right, she knows she made the right choice.


	2. time

Robin, in search for a place she can call home. Series of prompts.

.

.

**home**

**#ii. time**

When Chrom and Lissa finally find her, one year has passed.

When she takes his hand and is lifted up, Chrom smiles and says it's over and she's back. She agree and laughs with all her heart—she's alive. The back of her hand is bare, Grima's mark has vanished and she's back.

She's back.

She gives Chrom a strong hug, so strong that she almost choke him but she needs to feel him, she needs to feel his hard body against hers. Indeed, she's alive. She feels him pulling his arms around her frail shoulders, hugging her back. She says she's back, she's back, _she's home_.

She could not be happier.

She later finds herself being hugged from behind; Lissa is hugging her and is crying. She echoes what she said—you're back, you're home. The fields are filled with cries but mostly with laughs.

It took her one year to finally reach home.

.

On the way to Ylissetol, they tell her stories. Stories about their comrades from the last war. She's enjoying their stories as she truly realises that one year has passed—there's so much to catch up.

.

She has her own chamber in the castle, a request from Sumia who's pregnant of Cynthia. She does not why Sumia has made this request but she nevertheless accepts this chamber. She's able to stay close to her friends—not as a _tactician_ but as a friend and that's all that matters, for now.

.

She talks to Sumia a lot—she has to stay in bed and her sole compagny is Robin, Chrom being busy with duties. The white-haired woman notices her distant eyes but stays quiet; she does not want to distraught her when she's expecting. They talk about books, about fairytales, about dreams but never about reality. They don't talk about Ylisse, about Chrom or about sweet Lucina that has grown so much in a year—she has teeth and she can walk.

Sumia wants to flee from reality.

Robin complies.

.

One day, Sumia tells her something about reality. Her eyes are wistful, her smile is kind.

"I am not ashamed of what I did," Sumia tells her, "I would never regret it."

It's all my fault, Robin thinks bitterly, it's all my fault.

.

Sumia gives birth to a sweet Cynthia a few weeks later.  
She died in childbirth.

.

Cynthia does not have blue hair like Chrom or Lucina—no, hers is black.

.

Indeed, one year has passed and there's so much to catch up.


	3. view

To answer both **Anne** and **Sascha-Gero**, these prompts are all connected with each other, they are just not in a chronological order. I'll make a list of the prompts in the right order once I'll finish this series. So, for now, why don't you try guessing for the right one?

And of course, thank you for your reviews!

Feel free to tell me how I could improve my writing since English is not my native language.

* * *

Robin, in search for a place she can call home. Series of prompts.

.

.

**home**

**#iii. view**

She sees him again the following year after her sudden departure at Ferox. It does not surprise her for he is Flavia's champion. It does not surprise her either that this year again, he has won the tournament and therefore, has made the blond-haired hero the new head-Khan of Ferox for the fifth time since she has chosen him as her champion—not only he's a ruler, he's also an excellent fighter.

She has not seen the match but she has been told that, as usual, it's been _grandiose_. However, while Robin has managed to avoid watching the match between the Est-Khan's and the West-Khan's chosen champions in the arena full of Feroxi in high spirits—she has been called to deal with some issues that have involved Plegia and Ferox borders for she's Flavia's personal advisor and someone whom Basilio holds in high respect, meaning that she's their substitute when both Khans aren't available; she cannot avoid the festivities that followed afterwards which is a traditional feast that officially labels the tournament winner as the new head-Khan.

Hence the reason why she's standing against the wall, near a door, watching the spectacle from afar: Olivia is dancing on the stage, attracting many Feroxi who have gathered all around her, laughing and cheering for her. Though shy, she isn't expressing any sign of uneasiness, no, she only expresses love and freedom.

Dance is her freedom and her joy.

A beautiful sight, Robin muses as she watches Olivia bow, ending her dance with grace. She notices Lon'qu who stands in a corner of the grand room, watching over the pink-haired dancer with an inexpressive stare but Robin knows better—he must have enjoyed the show despite his cold face that says otherwise.

She hears the two Khans' shouts—to her, they speak nonsense, laugh over futility and eat like pigs so she assumes they are both drunk, very drunk. They are so irresponsible, so immature, so _childish_, she thinks as she saw bottles and foods flying all over the room, but today, just for today, she will let them be—today is a party and she will not be a killjoy for everyone while they have very few peaceful moments—Plegia issues have become so troubling that she, the Khans and the Feroxi fear that an upcoming war will break out between Plegia and Ferox.

"We have to talk."

She knows this voice.

Has she thought she could avoid him amidst this frenzy crowd? No, oh no—they know each other too well; he knows she cannot stand parties very well so she'd always stay near an exit to leave quickly and quietly. However, this time, he would not let her go. Not like the other times, not like _last time._

And Robin is well aware of this. She has no choice but to face him.

"Let's go some—"

"This is the perfect place to talk."

She blinks, a little surprised to be cut off, of his harsh but weighed words—she's not used to be talked like this but she nonetheless obeys, staying still. Chrom takes her silence as an approval and opens his mouth—the things he has wanted to say for so long, the words he has never voiced out—she's here, she will not run away, she will listen.

She will listen to his words.

"You knew."

* * *

Two words.

They are simple. They are just words. They are nothing. They should feel nothing.

It isn't an accusation nor a blame, just a statement and perhaps, this is _what_ hurts her the most.

She gazes at Olivia who begins a new dance. New moves but same elegance.  
The sight of her pink-haired friend performing does not please her anymore.

She's blinded by light.

"I knew."

A dark light called guilt.


End file.
